


Sharing

by shaggydogstail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Best Friends, Friendship, Growing Up is Hard, Jealousy, M/M, Minor James Potter/Lily Evans Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 17:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11017866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaggydogstail/pseuds/shaggydogstail
Summary: James Potter was a spoilt little boy, but even spoilt boys can to learn how to share nicely.





	Sharing

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday fic for minnow_53.
> 
> Thanks to midnitemaraud_r for the beta job.

James Potter was a spoilt little boy.

For the first eleven years of his life he never had to share anything; every toy, every junior broomstick, every set of robes, every Boy’s First Potions Kit—all new and the best Galleons could buy—was his and his alone. No-one else ever got to ride on the rocking hippogriff in James’ oversized nursery, or go on expeditions to the bottom of the garden to collect fairy eggs with Dad, or lick the bowl after Mum had made a cake. James was the king of his own castle, with no rival princes to compete for his crown.

So it came as something of a shock to James when he arrived at Hogwarts and had to share a room with three other boys. He wasn’t used to having to listen to other boys snoring, rustling and chattering when he was trying to sleep, or having to wait to use the bathroom, and he certainly wasn’t used to having to hide Mr Charmsly under his pillow. (Something told him that teddy bears should not put on public display amongst eleven year old boys). 

Still, James was an easy-going sort of a boy, and he soon got used to it all. In fact, he rather liked that he was easily the most normal and confident of his roommates, and as such quickly became the leader of his little group. So James started to share his time and living space, and in return he got his own gang. 

James liked all of his friends very much, but he liked his best friend, Sirius, most of all. Sirius was clever and funny and absolutely brilliant at causing trouble, and soon he and James were completely inseparable. People said they were like brothers, although Sirius assured him that best friends were better than brothers, which James could easily believe. (When he was six, one of James’ aunts had asked him if he’d like a little brother or sister—he’d thought about it for a bit and then said he’d rather have a dog.)

Spare Quidditch gloves and bags of sweets from Honeyduke’s are all well and good, but it wasn’t until Sirius turned up on James’ doorstep, wild-eyed and sporting a poorly Concealed bruise on his temple, that James got some idea that sharing was about a lot more than that. He felt no hint of jealousy at the time and attention his mother lavished on Sirius, or the speed and extravagance with which his father replaced the school supplies, robes and racing broom that had been left behind at Grimmauld Place. He did wonder briefly if things had gone a little too far when a jar of raspberry jam appeared at the breakfast table—James was a lifelong member of Team Strawberry, and wasn’t sure that being disowned by his parents gave Sirius the right to have his preference for overly tart fruit preserves indulged. He said as much too, but his mum told him to stop flaming whinging and eat his cornflakes, and Sirius pointed out that at least Peter hadn’t moved in with his lemon curd. James shuddered and was forced to agree.

Despite his initial worries about the state Sirius had been in when he turned up, James enjoyed that summer more than any other. It wasn’t just that having his best mate around livened things up in the sleepy Somerset village that had been home to the Potters for generations, or that James appreciated his own family more when he compared them to the Blacks: somehow having Sirius join the family made everything he had seem even _better_. James wasn’t sure quite how that worked, but he was glad of it all the same.

Of course, all things have to change.

It happened slowly at first, so slowly that James barely noticed and later would be unable to pinpoint exactly when it all started. Maybe it was the mornings after full moon which Sirius insisted spending in the Hospital Wing, ordering James and Peter out to fetch Remus’ favourite pineapple upside down cake, or the evenings that Sirius spent hunched up in front of the fire with Remus, studiously perfecting the tracking spells to put the final touches on the Map, waving away James’ demands to discuss Quidditch tactics. The muffled sounds from behind closed bed hangings were probably a dead giveaway, and an uncharitable person might describe James’ failure to deduce the source of the vivid red love bites on Sirius’ neck as deliberate obtuseness. 

Still, whilst there’s none so blind as those that won’t see, even James couldn’t escape reality when he returned from Quidditch practice early to find Sirius flat on his back, shirt unbuttoned and legs akimbo, with Remus sprawled on top of him. Sirius looked rather flushed and was breathing uneasily, so much so that James momentarily wondered if Remus wasn’t trying to revive him from some sort of accident.

All such ridiculous notions were put right out of his mind when he saw Remus stick his hand down the front of Sirius’ trousers and heard Sirius gasp, emitting a desperate, high pitched sound that James could have happily gone to his grave without ever having heard.

‘Moony,’ Sirius whimpered. ( _Whimpered_? The whimpering was even more disturbing than the gasping.) ‘Please.’

James stood unseen by either of his friends, gaping at them in open-mouthed alarm and surprise as Remus looked down at Sirius, propping himself up on his elbow and using his free hand to stroke Sirius’ hair back off his face. ‘You’re so pretty when you beg, you know,’ he whispered.

‘Moony,’ repeated Sirius, more urgently this time.

Remus leant down and kissed him. ‘Well, you are,’ he said simply. ‘So beautiful, my Padfoot.’

This was enough to snap James out of his horrified daze. _My Padfoot_? he fumed inwardly. _What on earth gives Moony the right…_? James could feel his face growing hot in a flush of possessive anger. Sirius was _his_ best friend, not Remus’.

‘What,’ he announced loudly, ‘is going on here?’

The effect of his words was more dramatic than throwing a bucket of water over a pair of mating alley cats. Remus turned a distinctly unflattering shade of puce and broke out into a cold sweat almost instantly, whilst Sirius sat up so quickly he knocked Remus clean off him. James fought back a malicious giggle as Remus landed ungraciously on his arse on the cold stone floor.

‘Ah, Prongs,’ said Sirius, running a hand through his hair in a rather pathetic attempt to look casual. ‘We, um, weren’t expecting to see you back so soon.’

‘Obviously,’ said James grimly.

‘Look, James, we’re sorry you had to—’ Remus began as he picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his no doubt rather bruised derriere gingerly. 

‘Out,’ James interrupted him.

‘What?’ gasped Sirius. Remus just stared at him.

‘I said, get out,’ James continued coldly, glaring at Remus and pointing towards the door. ‘Sirius and I need to talk.’

Sirius and Remus exchanged a look that, to his enormous frustration, James didn’t understand, before Remus scurried out of the dormitory in silence. James waited until the door slammed shut behind him before turning to Sirius, doing his darndest to channel Professor McGonagall as he fixed Sirius with a withering glare. Sirius put an equal amount of effort into not being affected by it in the slightest, refastening his clothing and sitting up with determined nonchalance. 

‘What in the name of Merlin’s wrinkly conker sack do you think you’re up to?’ James demanded when it became clear that Sirius wasn’t going to offer an explanation of his own accord.

Sirius shrugged in the sort of infuriating manner that would make any reasonable person want to eviscerate him with a rusty spoon. ‘I’m not up to anything,’ he said innocently.

‘You and Moony!’ exclaimed James, waving his arms about in an animated fashion. ‘You were—you…you were…’

‘Having sex?’ supplied Sirius helpfully. ‘Or trying to, before we were so rudely interrupted. Honestly, mate, you might want to work on your timing a bit—very frustrating for a bloke to be interrupted like that just when he’s getting to the good part.’

James sputtered helplessly for a few moments. ‘Never mind _that_ ,’ he managed at last. ‘ _That_ isn’t the point.’

‘No?’ asked Sirius, jutting his chin out defiantly. ‘What is the point, Prongs?’

‘The point is,’ said James, ‘the point is…I don’t expect to have to watch you putting on some sort of gay sex show every time I walk into the dormitory.’

‘Once is hardly every time,’ insisted Sirius hotly.

‘Once is enough!’ said James. ‘Once is far more than enough. What do you have to…do stuff like that for anyway?’

‘I don’t see why you’re so surprised,’ said Sirius with deliberate provocation. ‘I did tell you that I don’t fancy girls.’

‘Well…’ James floundered. ‘I just thought you were a late developer or something.’

Sirius just scoffed and rolled his eyes.

‘And I don’t see why, if you must carry on like that, you have to do it with Moony,’ added James petulantly.

Sirius stood up slowly, a dangerous glint developing in his eye. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘now we’re getting somewhere.’ He walked towards James, slowly backing his best friend into the wall. ‘You don’t like me getting off with Moony?’

‘No,’ said James, stumbling over the word and flushing as Sirius pinned him to the wall.

‘And why would that be?’ asked Sirius. ‘I mean, if I’m going to have a boyfriend, surely you ought to be pleased that at least it’s someone you _like_. Not like I’ve started snogging Snivellus or anything.’

‘Ew,’ said James, feeling nauseous.

‘Ew, indeed,’ agreed Sirius, grimacing. He shook his head as if clearing his thoughts, and then went on. ‘But what’s really upset you is that I’m getting off with one of my friends and it isn’t you.’

James gaped at him. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ he muttered.

Sirius leant closer. ‘You’re jealous.’

James was suddenly uncomfortably aware of just how close Sirius was, standing in front of him, their chests not quite touching. He could feel the chill of the cold stone wall behind him through his robes, unable to move with one of Sirius’ hands braced on each side of his shoulders. He opened his mouth to say no, to deny everything that Sirius had said, but before he had the chance to say anything, Sirius took his head in his hands and kissed him.

Sirius’ lips were warm and dry as they pressed against him, and surprisingly soft. James half-yelped, half-hiccoughed in surprise, and was even more surprised when Sirius took the opportunity to slip him some tongue. This was _not_ what he’d expected to happen.

Momentarily frozen in shock, James just stood there, not actively participating in the kiss, but not making any real attempt to prevent it either. Kissing Sirius—or rather, being kissed by Sirius—was a distinctly unsettling experience. Sirius was more forceful, more demanding than the handful of sweet, pretty girls James had kissed before, and there was no lipstick slick across his lips, no scent of perfume on his skin, no hint of feminine softness. It was uncomfortable, pressed into cold stone, his glasses digging into the bridge of his nose and the faint hint of stubble scratching his cheek. The whole experience was strange, embarrassing, disturbing…and sort of quite _nice_ , in a way.

‘Is that what you want?’ asked Sirius when he drew back at last. ‘Because that’s just for starters. Then there’s blow jobs and wanking each other off, rimming and swallowing spunk. And that’s before you even think about taking it up the arse.’

James blinked at Sirius, dumbfounded. There was a manic glint in Sirius’ eye, one that James recognised all too well: he knew exactly what Sirius was playing at now. Well, if Sirius thought he could scare him by sticking his tongue down his throat, he had another think coming. James Potter was many things, but chicken wasn’t one of them. 

He grabbed Sirius by the elbows and wheeled him around so that their positions were reversed. Sirius’ eyes were wide as galleons as James pressed into him, and James could help but smirk in satisfaction before taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, and kissing him.

Kissing Sirius was even better when he took an active part in the proceedings, James realised as he gently prised Sirius lips open with his own and slid his tongue into Sirius’ mouth. He lifted one hand to Sirius’ hair, which felt soft and sleek beneath his fingers, and placed the other on Sirius’ hip. Well, if Remus was able to stick his hand down Sirius’ trousers, then so could he—the world would not sit right on its axis if James Potter could be bested by a timid, overly-cautious prefect (diamond geezer and great mate though he may be). Sirius wriggled against him as James slipped his fingertips under the edge of his waistband, whether from pleasure or discomfort, James couldn’t tell and, quite frankly, he didn’t care. He moved his hand around in awkward, constricted movements, all the while pressing fierce, sloppy kisses to Sirius’ mouth.

James paused when his thumb brushed over Sirius’ fly. He moved away, panting slightly. ‘Do you want this?’ he asked petulantly.

Sirius glanced down. ‘No,’ he said in a very small voice.

James looked at him thoughtfully. Sirius looked uncertain, which was rare enough, and strangely flustered. Sirius had never said no to him before, and there was no conviction when he said it now. All he had to do was push it just a little bit further and he could have Sirius to himself again—there was no way Sirius was going to go running after Remus or anyone else if James made it clear that he really wanted him for himself.

‘Padfoot,’ he whispered softly, his hand under Sirius’ chin, tilting his face up to look at him.

‘Please don’t,’ said Sirius miserably.

‘Why not?’ spat James. ‘Worried about what your _boyfriend_ might think?’ Sirius didn’t answer, just chewed his lip and kept avoiding James’ eye. ‘If you like the cock so much, why does it matter—I’d imagine one’s much the same as any other.’

‘There’s more to it than that!’ said Sirius hotly.

‘Is there?’ sneered James. ‘Oh, I suppose you’re _in love_ with him now, are you?’

‘Don’t be such an arse,’ muttered Sirius, sounding irritated but unable to conceal the slight blush on his cheeks

‘So why him?’ James exploded.

‘And not you?’ Sirius asked, finally looking James in the eye and regaining some of his old cockiness. ‘Why Evans and not me?’

‘That’s different!’ James insisted. ‘Evans is a girl!’

‘Isn’t that sort of the point?’ shot Sirius sarcastically. ‘Or then again, maybe I was wrong about that.’ He looked pointedly down at James’ hand, which was still resting mere inches above his crotch. James jerked his hand back quickly as if it’d been burnt. 

‘You’re being stupid,’ huffed James, folding his arms across his chest.

‘Am I?’ said Sirius. He looked down at his feet, shuffling uneasily and chewing his lip. ‘Why are you doing this, Prongs?’

James couldn’t answer. Why was he doing it? _Because I don’t want Moony to take you away from me?_ He sounded like a spoilt toddler even in his own mind. Watching the fraught, nervous expression on Sirius’ face, James knew he could do it—insist that Sirius chose between them, safe in the knowledge that he’d win. Even if Sirius _was_ in love with Remus (and, really, he’d rather not think about that), he still loved James best and would put him first, however unhappy it made him. He could keep Sirius for himself—but at what cost?

He stepped back, shrugging his shoulders and trying to look relaxed. ‘Just…you gave me a bit of a shock there, mate. Might want to give a bloke some warning next time the pair of you fancy carrying on like a pair of fairies in the dorm room.’

Sirius grinned, the tension visibly leaving his body as he stood up straight and unclenched his shoulders. ‘Yeah, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to scare your poor, delicate virgin eyes.’

‘Yes, well, never mind my eyes,’ said James with a shaky laugh. ‘Just…run along now. Go and find Moony and do…Things We Need Never Speak Of somewhere I don’t have to see.’

‘Cheers,’ said Sirius, looking happy and relieved. He turned to leave but then hesitated at the door, turning back to look at James anxiously. ‘Are you sure you’re OK with this?’

‘Of course!’ insisted James brightly. ‘I’ll sleep easier in my bed knowing it’s not my arse you’re after.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Sirius. ‘One snog was enough.’

‘Hey, what does that mean?’

‘No offence, wet lips, but it was like kissing a fish,’ teased Sirius.

‘You’re a fine one to talk,’ scoffed James. 'I thought you were trying to suffocate me.'

‘What are you talking about?’ said Sirius. ‘My snogging prowess is legendary.’

‘Far too much tongue,’ insisted James. ‘Moony’s probably too polite to mention, but I thought you ought to know.’

‘Well, quite,’ said Sirius. ‘And next time I want advice on my technique I’ll be sure to—’

‘—ask anyone but me?’ James finished for him.

‘Something like that.’ Sirius grinned. ‘Thanks, Prongs. I’ll see you around, right?’

‘Yeah.’ James smiled weakly as Sirius darted out of the door.

Alone in the dormitory, James sank down onto the nearest bed, feeling thoroughly confused and more than a little apprehensive. Sharing everything with Sirius had come easily—but he wasn’t sure he was really ready to share Sirius.

~*~

On the surface, nothing much changed after that. There were no more embarrassing encounters in the dorm, and it would take the sharpest eye to notice the way Remus’ smile deepened when Sirius walked into the room, the mischievous twinkle in Sirius’ eye when he and Remus set off alone together to do reconnaissance for the Map or sneak into Hogsmeade, and the tiniest, almost indiscernible touches when no-one was meant to be watching. James saw it all though, and fought back the bitter sting of jealousy, relieved to find it became less painful each time.

It was a relief all around when James asked Lily to go to Hogsmeade with him the week before Christmas, more out of force of habit than with any real expectation that she’d say yes. When she did, it was hard to say which of them was more surprised, although it was James who dropped pumpkin juice into his lap out of shock.

When Lily finally kissed him (not on that date, nor the one after, but the one after that), James thought he had probably done the right thing, and when Sirius sat at the foot of his bed later that night, looking proud and excited as James embellished his tales of seduction, he knew it. 

When Sirius laughed away his nerves while helping him choose a ring for Lily, stood by his side at the wedding, and held his infant son with an expression of awe-struck tenderness on his face, James knew that sharing didn’t mean losing anything at all.


End file.
